All is love, love is all,
rolling like a ball,everest as tall.
a gift from God, the sun that shine, the air we breathe,
a strong feeling, hard to describe, if contracted no drug to prescribe,
...
Split the Lark—and you'll find the Music—
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled—
Scantilly dealt to the Summer Morning
Saved for your Ear when Lutes be old.